#do you people NOT have friends or something

[xthehatchick]

to-do lists

grocery lists

half-written RP posts I'm not willing to trust discord to hold onto if it crashes or my computer restarts

kaomojis I like to use a lot but which aren't in the standard selection you get when you press Win + .

does anybody else have a discord server thats only yourself and nobody else exclusively used to send images from your mobile phone to your tablet or computer

[sourdeers]

𓄲 ❝HEART BEAT❞

pairing ﹕ katsuki bakugou x reader.

— contents: sleepy katsuki. denki and kirishima are menaces. established relationship. short. — word count ﹕ .5k — a/n: OHMIGOSH FIRST REQUEST !! i i kind of went a little off-track . . . i hope that’s okay and i hope you like this ! i also added jirou into the baku-squad b/c that’s one of my personal hc’s !

“what is happening right now?”

”dude . . . he’s, like, asleep. in public.”

you don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s kirishima and denki standing in front of the couch, peering down at you and katsuki. you’d warned the blonde that falling asleep in the common room went against everything he stood for, and increased the risk of people finding out you were together, but he’d shrugged and said he didn't give a damn.

your eyes open just the slightest bit and kirishima flinches, taking a step back. “jesus, y/n!” he exclaims, clutching his chest dramatically. “you can’t scare a guy like that . . .”

”you guys better shut the hell up,” you whisper harshly, narrowing your eyes. you make sure not to move—not to shift too much and wake up your sleeping boyfriend. “if he wakes up and sees you two idiots staring at him, he’ll never take a nap again.”

simultaneously, they raise their hands in defense. 

“sorry, y/n,” denki says. “please, carry on with your . . . nap.”

the two of them share a glance, then snicker, then make their way out of the room. you let your head fall back into place, tucked into the crook of katsuki’s neck, and close your eyes with a sigh.

there’s maybe a minute and a half of silence before you hear giggles in the distance, accompanied by the sound of a camera going off. your eyes shoot open, immediately darting to the stairs, where kirishima, denki, mina, sero, and jiro are crouched down, phones pointed at the couch.

you narrow your eyes once again and furrow your brows. “what are you doing?” you mouth to them, lifting your head to look at them properly.

mina shrugs, a wide grin on her face. “when is the next time we’ll actually catch him lacking, huh?” she raises her brows and nods. “we have to take this loss and use it for our blackmail folder.”

”blackma—“ you start to repeat what she said, but katsuki shifts beside you and everyone freezes. nobody moves, nobody breathes.

katsuki isn’t a scary guy. no matter how the public paints him, no matter how many times he threatens to kill people, no matter how many times he’s accidentally made children cry—he’s not scary. 

however.

he does, in fact, hold a grudge. you ate his leftovers in first year once, and he didn’t talk to you for three months— even when you were his assigned training partner! denki made fun of his “bedtime” once, and the next day, denki had lime green hair.

you lay your head back down, keeping your eyes trained on the band of miscreants sitting on the stairs, and begin softly trailing your fingers across katsuki’s arm. you’re pretty sure you’ve pavlov trained him into falling asleep whenever you tickle his arm.

his breathing evens out again, chest heaving with a big breath, and then he’s fast asleep again. it almost brings a frown to your face because that’s just how tired he is. he’s been working so hard lately—he always had, but third year has been kicking his ass.

”go away,” you whisper to your friends.

surprisingly, they listen. they trail back up the stairs, mumbling to each other about something you can’t hear. you don’t really care though, because your occupied with your boyfriend's heart beating in your ear.

[simpjaes]

exhibition ― s. jy

Requested by anonymous via tumblr: cam boy jake. That’s it.Jake is your college roommate and he needs to buy a camera for his online classes. Curiosity gets the better of him, leading to a lot of extra money and, well, finding out that you’ve been a little too curious about what he's doing.  Or the one where your roommate flaunts his secret job at you, not thinking you’d go out and search for him. And definitely not thinking you’d be getting off to him either.

MDNI

WORDCOUNT― 4.9k

PAIRING― cam boy jake x afab reader

CONTENT―  college setting but it’s mosting within the apartment they share, cam boy jake, confused best friend reader, smut WARNINGS― none but brief mention of mommy kink in passing

NOTE―this isn't proof read ;o;

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Seven hundred.” 

“What?” “That’s how much I made last night,” Jake’s eyes shine brighter and brighter with each word, a crooked smile plastered across his face as he sleepily blinks. “I didn’t even have to do anything weird either.” 

You pause as you sip your morning coffee, wrapped up in a blanket and head pounding at the amount of stress and work you’ve had to get done while he was too busy playing with himself on camera for dozens of people. Or maybe hundreds. Thousands?

“What did you do then?” You raise a brow, not entirely checked in on his boasting this morning, though it is impressive.

Jake always shares how much he makes after each session. What started with fifteen dollars is now reaching seven hundred. Surely your best friend isn’t just jerking off, right?

“Well, it was a little weird, but not that bad.” He avoids the question with a vague answer, suddenly feeling his face heat up. “Just a little here and there, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes instantly. So he does do weird shit for money! You knew it! No way could someone make that much money in such a short span of time by regular jerking off. 

“Just a little what?” You stare him down, now placing your coffee on the table and leaning towards him. He knows better than anyone that you, of all people, can point out if he lies. Meaning, he has to be honest. 

And so, he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it. 

“Mommy.” He says it like he’s saying any other word, as if he’s uncaring, as if it was worth the money. “Just had to say it a few times and the money came pouring in.” 

Your eyes narrow at him even more.

“What else?” You question. “There’s no way they’d accept it unless you…”

He raises his brow at you now, tilting his head in cheeky curiosity. 

“Unless I cried? Edged? Let them torture me a little bit?” He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

You’re a bit shocked, the images of what that must have looked like for his viewers forcing your curiosity to grow. His smug face looking back at you now serves as proof that he very well may be into that kind of thing. Almost like he’s sharing a kink with you, which…is not something the two of you do. 

Despite being roommates, and without any mention of how long you’ve been friends, sex has never been a topic until he started this whole camboy thing. 

You remain calm though. This is Jake you’re talking to. He’s the last person you want to see drooling and cumming all over himself. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re a liar. 

All day, all fucking day you’ve thought about it. It’s not that you’re into the kink, or even that you’re into Jake. You’re just…curious about how smug he is about it. And yeah, it’s probably just a huge confidence boost to have all sorts of people rubbing one out to you while paying your bills, but still. 

You’re only a liar because that so-called confidence makes him more open about it. More loud. More comfortable. More…horny? 

You can tell by now, weeks after he started. You could never hear a peep from his bedroom, not a single moan or sigh at first. Now though, he’s only gotten louder. You hear the moans, the dirty talk into his camera, the usernames, all of it.

“Thank you–mmf– cumslut2000.” 

God, you hate that you didn’t cringe hearing him say that. It was the moan mid-sentence maybe, or the sultry tone you’ve never heard from him until now. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together with an annoyed groan, practically leaping for your headphones shortly after because, absolutely the fuck not.

Not Jake. It’s too weird. 

And the days pass like that, casual with him as he discusses his pay where you no longer question because now you’d just think too hard about the details. The nights pass like that too, where he’s louder, louder, louder, until you can almost hear him through your muffled videos and playlists. 

Until you are forced to feel the arousal just like the rest of his viewers. You can’t escape the attraction despite wishing, hoping, fucking praying for your head to stop wanting to hear more. 

You know better than anyone though, hoping and praying does nothing for you and the only thing that will help this situation between your legs is seeing. Proving to yourself, so to say, that seeing Jake act like that will feel gross. It will turn you off. It will solidify that Jake is your best friend and your roommate, nothing more. 

It’s easy to find him too. All you had to do was abandon your headphones tonight, waiting for him to introduce himself via username to his stream. 

Doggystyle02.

That’s what he picked? He can’t be fucking serious. 

You’re excited as you google the username, enabling NSFW search and finding him within seconds. Excited to lose the interest that’s driving you up a fucking wall, that is. And before you click into his stream, you inspect.

Yeah, that’s definitely his abs oiled up in his profile picture. You choose to ignore his uh…thing under his sweats, heavy, leaving a little spot on the front of them. 

Oh, 23k followers? And he started two, maybe three months ago? People want Jake that badly? And you just…live here with him? You get to see him daily, and hear him playing all these kinky roles in real life? God, you just know if the viewers knew they’d be saying shit like “If i lived with you, I’d be on that cock every day.”  Blah, blah, blah. 

They don’t know Jake like you know him. He’s just a dude, not some sex god. 

Then…something in your gut stirs. It flips, it bubbles, your face warms up. The comments on his profile asking him all sorts of things, saying all sorts of things and he just…responds? Reciprocates? 

Cumslut2000 comments: god i want you to hold me down and make me take it

Doggystyle02: Don’t sweet talk me like that, you know how I get. 

Oh, does she now? How the fuck would she know anything about Jake. Your best friend. Your roommate. 

DPlover: can we plllleeease do another private show? 

Doggystyle02: book me for later, i’ll even give you a discount <3

Another private show?! A fucking discount?!  

Blushy: im too shy to talk when you’re online but i really, really want you.

Doggystyle02: you wanna talk in private? I’ll message you and bring you right out of that shell. let me take care of you baby

You’re speechless. During his private job, where he doesn’t share his name but he shows his fucking face, he publicly talks to people like this? He’s never so much as looked at you for too long after you’ve gotten out of the shower, yet he wants to take care of a fucking loser ass bitch who is too shy to talk to him? 

Sexually?! 

Safe to say, never in your life did you ever think you’d find yourself jealous of people who get Jake’s attention. To you, he’s always just been, well, Jake. The guy who ran up your apartment stairs on all fours the day you moved in, the boy who constantly did your homework for you in highschool because he knew you wouldn’t graduate with him if he didn’t, the absolute best friend who followed you to the same college, saved you from the dorms by becoming your roommate, and now…somehow, seems…more than just what he was before.

Surely you’re just horny though. Curious, in the mood, whatever. Anyone would be when there’s a porn set just a wall over, right?

You shake your thoughts, knowing you’ll just make yourself sick if you keep reading all of his little public comments and start wondering what he says in private to them. You scroll up instead, glancing at his abs again before your eyes land directly on what you were trying so hard to avoid. 

He’s kind of packing, you can’t lie. If he wasn’t Jake, you’d probably be ogling, rubbing out to him just like everyone else. Hah. You chuckle, shaking your head at your own stupidity, ready for these weird feelings to be eradicated the second you click into his stream. 

Except…jesus fucking christ.

The comments roll in faster than you can read. The money is pouring in, and he’s sitting there on camera with that same dopey grin he gives you every morning. There’s something else with his smile though, a little lip bite, some tongue darting action to wet his lips. Hair falling into his eyes…jesus. 

After a minute or two of staring at your best friend’s face, ignoring the movement of his shoulders attached to the hand that’s…doing something, a pop up covers his image entirely.

SIGN UP OR LOG IN TO CONTINUE WATCHING…

Never in your life have you signed up for something so fast, typing in a string of cute letters and numbers to differentiate yourself in the sea of horny viewers. And then his image is back, and your eyes trail straight down. 

Instantly you choke up, watching the way he uses his hands with that expression on his face. It really is just typical jerking off but…something about it. Something about the way he flicks his own nipples with a seething lip bite, bucking his hips up before shining his pouting eyes into the camera, as if wishing any or all viewers were there to do it for him. And god, the way he looks kind of wet? Like, oiled up or lotion, maybe lubed up, you don’t know. His hips slide that thing through his fist so easily, making squelching sounds all the while. 

That’s…that’s really him. And he’s not even ten feet from your bedroom door looking like this. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to get up and interrupt him.

What would you even do? What would you say? 

So, you just watch, completely forgetting that you were doing this to get rid of the curiosity, not feed into the sexuality of a man you’ve known for so long as nothing more than your closest friend. 

Over a thousand dollars made in just one stream by the time he logs off, and those moans echo in your brain. Hearing them so clearly through your headphones just…wow. And, well, you did your best. 

You swore you’d never get off to the image of Jake after all this curiosity started, it’s just, you can’t help it now. At least he wasn't on your screen, moaning and whimpering for all the faceless people watching. You waited. Your belly burned and your clit throbbed through all of it, and only when he made a mess of himself with that same fucking smile before logging off did you finally give yourself what you needed. 

You don’t know why you did that, and you don’t know why the muffled stream of his shower just down the hallways is what sticks in your head when you finally reach your own orgasm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Over a thousand this time.” 

“Oh?” You awkwardly avoid his eye contact, stiffening your shoulders at the mere mention of his stream from last night. 

“Yeah, not sure why they gave me so much this time though…” He trails off briefly, inspecting your posture and sudden defensive stance. “I didn’t even do any of the kinks.”

Well…you know why he made that much. He wouldn’t even need to feed the fetish crowd to make a decent living off of this, not with a face like that, a cock like that. It’s only natural he starts making more and more with each lengthy stream.

“Yeah, that’s weird.” You answer shortly, rummaging through cabinets despite your lunch sitting on the table across from him. 

“Yeah…” He notes the shift, feeling tension in the air. “Are you okay?”

“What? Me?” You ground both feet on the floor now, abandoning the cabinet as you turn towards him and look to the floor. 

You can’t do it. You can’t look at him. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what gives you that idea?” 

You hear him stand from the table, taking his usual Jake-esque strides toward you. Then, he leans forward and tilts his head, chasing your eyes with his own and forcing you to look at him. 

“Well, you haven’t even looked at me all morning,” He smiles, tapping your chin. “Was I too loud or something? Did it make you feel awkward?”

Oh, an out! An excuse!

“No, no, I just –” 

Now, why the fuck did you say no? Why are you looking at him now, stopping mid-sentence entirely stunned because, yep, that’s him alright. You saw him cum. You watched him do it, you listened, and you fucking liked it.

And now you’re looking him in the face, and he’s giving you that same smile, and you’re…oh god.

“I–” 

He tilts his head again, blinking twice before narrowing his eyes. 

“Spit it out. What happened? Jay do something?” 

Your words are caught in your throat, cheeks hot, stomach doing flips…Your eyes glance down without intention, right to his groin and he sees it. He even pulls back a bit, looking surprised before softening his expression. 

“Don’t tell me you–” His voice is softer now too, but he calls out your name. “Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell he doesn’t want to make the assumption, and arguably, you’re bad at hiding things from him. 

“I kind of, like, accidentally saw your stream last night.” You say it so fast, avoiding eye contact again by embarrassingly staring right between his legs. “It feels weird now.”

He laughs. He fucking laughs, but it’s kind of like, a smug laugh? A chuckle? 

“Oh now it’s weird?” He rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s not weird.” 

“It is though! You’re, well, you! I didn’t need to see that!” 

“Then why’d you watch?” He smirks, reaching a hand out to tilt your chin up at him again. And he’s done this many times in the past. Platonic, lovely little touches from someone who will protect and appreciate you. This though, this is…

“Go on. Tell me. Why is it weird now?” He encourages you to admit it. “Because you liked it?”

You remain silent, unwilling to answer. 

“I grossed you out?” 

“No!” An immediate disagreement there, one that only digs your hole deeper. “I just–didn’t expect that.”

“So you did watch it.” He leans back now, crossing his arms and staring you down. “Did you enjoy yourself?

What is he fucking asking right now? The worst part about this is if you don’t answer, it’s still a fucking answer. But you don’t want to like, lie, because already you couldn’t even make it through a fucking morning with him after seeing it. So, with the smallest voice you have, so small you hope he can’t hear it, you whisper. 

“Yes.”

And if you were to look him in the face right now, you’d have seen that smug look go to curiosity. You’d have seen the split second of his adoration for you merging with a new view, a new feeling, and possibly a new need.

“Wait, did you–?” He even feels a bit shy now, his ears practically on fire as he keeps his eye on you, and the way you curl in on yourself with the admittance. “Did you..touch yourself?”

A small nod, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Then you hear him hold his breath, taking a step back from you. You’ve touched yourself to him, he can’t believe it. After all these years, never once looking at him like that…not even he looked at you like that but now?

He pictures it. The way you must’ve been in your room all alone, knowing what he’s doing, searching him up, then confirming it for yourself. You liked it. You liked what you saw and you got off to it. 

And now he can’t stop smiling. Proud, he feels proud. 

“Well, don’t feel weird.” He finally says, trying to ease your discomfort. “It’s just…a normal thing. I don’t think you’re weird.”

With that, the conversation dies, fades entirely into awkwardness as you both split off. 

You need space to think.

He needs space to think.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re doing it again, as if just this morning you didn’t have to bury yourself 6 feet under right in front of him. 

Neither of you spoke after that. Avoiding each other consistently throughout the day with knowing, growing, and exhausting tension. Yet still, he’s started his stream, and here you are, watching it with a dazed look. 

You don’t know how to feel or what to do. Your head doesn’t anyway, your body knows too well what it wants and needs, and you hate yourself for making it so awkward between the two of you. Why did you tell him? You wonder if he’d be uncomfortable knowing you’re watching again, this time knowing your hand will stray as you watch.

You wonder, and wonder, will he think you’re disrespecting your friendship by doing this not once, but twice? 

Then, you hear him. 

“Can we do some roleplay today?” He speaks out to the chat, cock pressing against his briefs, head tilted with his messy hair in the very computer chair you bought for him. 

Last time, he was sprawled out on his bed, and you wonder if he always starts his streams this way.

“I want you to imagine we live together, and you know I’m in my room fucking myself, begging, needy for anything, anyone to touch me.” He looks into the camera. “Let’s say you’d hear it too. I’m loud on purpose…”

“Tell me what you’d do to me.”

You stare forward blankly, frozen on the spot at his words, then your eyes flick to the chat. 

“You wouldn’t see the front door ever again.” 

“I’d be on you within seconds.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to turn your camera on, just come home and I'd be waiting.”

Oh. 

Jake hums at the responses, whispering them to himself. 

“Ah,” Jake reads a specific comment with a nod. “I’d be an idiot to not jump at the opportunity.”

And the rest of his words become muffled as your ears pop. Is he…talking about you right now? Was he expecting you to watch again? 

“If that ever happens to me, just know I’d be grateful for all of you. Running to help me feel good, you’re all so good to me.” He giggles now. Fucking giggles. “Alright, enough of that.” 

Jake stares into the camera again, and you can’t help it. It feels like he’s staring at you. Straight through your fucking soul at this point. 

“I have a lot of stress to relieve.” He ends on that note, skewing his pants down and making haste. 

He’s not slow or cute with it like he was before. He’s aggressive, almost frustrated. His eyebrows furrow, his lips become red from his biting and chewing, and you watch the money flood in.

The comments blurring past, words of, “Oh fuck,”  and “This is new.” before suddenly, you hear an irritated sigh. A string of curse words pour from his lips, his hand squeezing the base of his cock so tightly, and spurts of cum shooting up his chest, only to drip down slowly. 

“What a waste.” He comments shortly at himself, heaving in a breath before he breaks out into his usual smile. “Sorry to end on such a short note, just thought I’d let you guys join me for a quickie!” 

Then he’s gone, the stream lasting about ten minutes in total. 

And apparently so is your fucking sanity because why is it that now you find yourself getting out of your bed, feeling the wet between your legs drip, and you’re heading for your bedroom door just to get to him? 

Why is he standing right outside, as if he was already waiting for you to open it?

And it’s silent now as you stare at each other. Him, with his sweatpants skewed over his waist, cum still on his chest, breath still uneven. Then you, practically vibrating to get on him. 

“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you out.” He says, already pushing you right back through your bedroom door, letting you flop back on your bed as he instantly pulls at your shorts. “Want me to kiss you first?”

You feel your head spin the second you flop back and feel your shorts being pulled off, and before you can even comprehend his question, he’s already kissing you. Hot, heated. He sounds just as frustrated as he did just minutes ago getting off by himself. You don’t even mind the cum on his chest, nor the way he spreads your legs with his knee to get more comfortable. 

It’s happening. This is what kissing Jake feels like. This is what everyone wants from him, but it’s you that’s getting it. Has he always been like this? Good at kissing? Firm with his movements? Confident as he kisses down, down, down, giving you what he thinks you want?

You do want it. Perhaps you were looking at him like you wanted him to eat you out, and now he’s doing it. Breathing shortly right against your clit without so much as savoring his view before diving in, tongue instantly licking from your hole straight to your clit and sucking.

He hums around the taste, both hands holding your inner thighs and keeping your legs open. And he just…keeps humming, licking and sucking you so good that you can’t help but cry out and tug at that fucked up mess of hair on his head. 

Jake likes that. He likes the way you hold your breath and the way your legs shake around his ears. He likes even more the way he knew you were watching him tonight, and that you looked like you were coming straight to his room to jump him. 

So strange how quickly things can change, so strange how good his best friend must have tasted all these years, and he had never once considered it. And now, he blinks up at you, seeing the way you close your eyes and breathe through it, like you’re calming yourself down, thinking both too much and not at all. 

Easily he runs his hands up and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your belly before gently running his palms over your perked nipples. He continues to stare up, watching you, tasting you, loving this a little more than he ever knew he would. 

He did want you, he does want you. His cock has been aching all day for you since the moment he found out you thought of him. Jake thinks you’d be tight, because lord knows you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute, and that quick jerk off session was absolutely for you. 

He wants to show off to you, wants you to see him more than anyone else can. Yet, it’s you he’s seeing more of right now and he doesn’t mind that so much. 

His eyes flick back down, allowing his fingertips to toy gently with your nipples as he skews his head, essentially making out with your pussy, slurping the slick you offer and not letting a single bit of it go to waste. Then, he dips in, pointing his tongue right against your pulsing hole and pressing in. 

There’s that tug of his hair again, your legs squeezing around him and your hips bucking up. 

Oh, you like that. 

So, he does it harder and with more focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and prepares to not breathe for a bit, licking as far into you as he can, his nose easily pressing your clit in such a beautiful way that all you can do now is moan.

Genuinely moan for him. His name in a little hiccup followed by a curse. 

Fuck, you’re so hot to him right now. Anyone would be fucking lucky to be in your bed at all, and finally it’s him. As if he’s been waiting for years despite never needing a turn previously. 

And this continues until he can’t breathe, his fingers growing more needy against your tits, his tongue reaching deeply before pulling out and allowing him to take a deep breath that is scented entirely in you. Then, he fucking nuzzles it.

You glance down with a heaved breath, legs shaking as you watch him do it. Eyes closed gently, rubbing his nose and lips against your clit in such a gentle, loving way that it has you melting instantly. 

“Jake–” You whisper in a breath, the first word you’ve said to him since you opened your bedroom door. 

All he does is shoot his gaze to you and continues his nuzzles, uncaring of whatever you need to say if it isn’t you asking him to fuck you right now. And arguable, you have nothing to say anyway. 

You just…needed to say his name. Needed to solidify that you just broke a boundary with him willingly, and he doesn’t care. You don’t care. 

You feel the thumping in your chest, your clit throbbing with each little rub he lends before you sit up slightly on your elbows, balancing yourself before reaching a hand down. 

He leans into your palm on his cheek, like a puppy wanting love. Then his hands leave your chest and find their way to your hips. His doe eyes instantly sharpen, and you’re instantly being pushed back down to your bed.

“Want me to be whatever you want? Let you do whatever you want to me?” He finally says, licking his lips as he makes his way up to hover over you, making sure to lift your shirt enough to expose both of your tits. “Just like I ask?” 

You find yourself nodding before taking it back, shaking your head. 

“I don’t want it to be like that–” You trail off, avoiding his intense gaze and suddenly feeling very vulnerable under him. “I just want you. The Jake I’ve always had.” 

Another shocked look reaches his expression. He’s a bit surprised, assuming that all of this was simply because you watched his stream and didn’t expect to be so turned on. He thought this would be a one and done thing. A “let’s forget this ever happened,” thing.

But you want him? Not the acting? Not the kinks, or the cocky grinning? You want the best friend in him, the part of him that was never sexual, never confident, never willing to approach women. 

He looks at you in question. 

“I don’t know how to be that right now.” He finally says, pressing his hips down and against you with a choked moan. “How can I be that when I want to fuck you so badly?”

You find yourself smiling, running your hands through his hair to get it out of his face before shrugging. 

“When have we ever known what we were doing?” You ask quietly, wincing slightly at how hard he’s gotten, knowing that you’re not having to see him through a screen now. 

That’s all he needed to hear before keeping eye contact and reaching down with one hand. You can’t bare to look down, knowing some sort of embarrassing sound will leave your throat. You decide to feel it instead. 

And goddamn, do you fucking feel it. 

He slides in easily, but the size of him stretches you far past anything you could have imagined. This is him, he’s this big. This is what Jake’s cock feels like and it has your chest caving in over it. 

All you can do is hug him, clinging to him through the stretch and hoping the way your cunt squeezes around him isn’t hurting him. 

“God, fuck.” He says in a quick whisper, arms shaking to hold himself up as you hug him. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

You smile against his messy chest at the compliment, basking in it really before allowing yourself to freely adjust. Your body clenches him tightly, and he remains still through it until he can’t anymore. 

He drops to the bed, flush against you without warning and the moans start pouring from his chest. He can’t stop even if he wanted to, can’t control his hips, his words, his thoughts.

He just lays here flush against you, letting his hips move freely and rapidly. In, out, in, out. So clumsy, so loud, and goddamn does it feel fucking amazing.

You moan alongside him, petting his hair with each thrust, feeling his cheek against your tits move with each drop of his jaw. Even when his moans are silent, you know he feels good and that makes you happy. 

None of those little bitches in his chat could get him like this, surely. He’s not acting right now. He’s Jake.

And that’s what makes it so good, you think. That’s why he has so much cum to put in you, apologizing through it all because the fear of this act comes with the orgasm. Apologizing for fucking you, for cumming in you, for getting off so quickly, promising you that he’ll make you cum too. 

It’s then that you realize, when he’s got his face back down between your legs, sucking his mess out of you…maybe you have feelings now.

And maybe that’s not such a bad thing either. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

remember that you can get early access and/or tip me via patreon! love and comments would be appreciated <3<3<3<3

[fireinmoonshot]

soft hearted | joaquin torres x fem! reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: You're not the type of person to go clubbing – but Joaquin is pretty good at convincing you to come along with him when he goes. Yet, when an interaction with another man at the club goes badly, Joaquin is there to pick up the pieces and make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of drinking/clubbing/eating/food as well as a guy at the club being creepy and physically grabbing the readers wrist, causing a bruise. Word Count: 4.1k A/N: Here I am with another Joaquin fic! I really love how this one turned out. I honestly wrote it just this afternoon in a few hours, I started it and I couldn't stop working on it. I'm really happy with it so I hope those of you who read it enjoy it, even though it's longer than my last Joaquin fic! Please let me know if you liked it and if you'd like to read more Joaquin from me! 💗

“Did I ever say thank you for coming out with us tonight?” Joaquin says, placing a hand on the small of your back to help guide you as the two of you make your way through the crowd, heading back to your booth where your friends are waiting for their drinks.

He’s been texting you all day trying to convince you to join them tonight – but you are the one member of your friendship group that isn’t into partying and clubbing. It’s always difficult to convince you to leave your house once you’re there. 

It never stops Joaquin from trying though. He always enjoys clubbing more when you come out with them. Even just being in your presence is something he loves – whether he’s at a club or anywhere else.

“Oh, just about ten times,” you flash him a grin, trying to avoid bumping into anyone and spilling the drinks. Your friends had been waiting long enough considering how busy the club was. 

Joaquin laughs, the sound audible above the loud music in the bar. It’s a familiar sound and one that instantly comforts you despite your unease at being in such a crowded place. “Definitely room for me to improve, then, angel. What do you think?” 

“I think, pretty boy, that you could probably benefit from inviting me out somewhere other than a packed club sometimes, simply so I can talk to you without having to yell!” You joke, flashing him a look as you finally get back to the booth where your friends are waiting, placing the tray with all of their drinks on it on the table. They all take their drinks, yelling thank you’s at you and Joaquin as you take your seats again. 

“You guys made it!” One of your friends, Cruz, yells out at the both of you.

Joaquin meets your eyes from across the table with a grimace. Cruz is incredibly drunk by the sound of his slurred voice. Joaquin is only a few drinks deep and he’s nowhere near as far gone as Cruz is. You both share an amused smile as Joaquin takes a swig of his beer.

Clubs are not your thing, never have been. It just so happens that you’ve befriended several people that love them – Joaquin being quite the enthusiast. He’s dragged you out to many clubs over the city in the time since you’ve known him. If it were anyone else, you were pretty sure you never would’ve gone… but with Joaquin, you don’t mind it. His presence is comforting, even in such a busy and chaotic atmosphere.

Joaquin is the kind of guy that all the girls and guys in clubs like these like, and on nights like this, you can understand why. The way he looks, a smile on his face as he laughs at something one of your friends says, the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead from the warm air. He’s effortlessly attractive to anyone that looks at him. He’s so comfortable here. You’ve always found Joaquin attractive, but even you can admit that he looks even more attractive when he’s in a place like this – if that’s even possible.

You take a long sip of your drink – water, having decided early in the night that you were gonna be the designated driver for your friends so that they could all enjoy their night properly. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom, okay?” You lean into your friend, Katy, sitting beside you to tell her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll take my phone with me if you need me!”

She nods, a little pre-occupied in a conversation with the guy beside her – someone she’d met earlier in the night at the club and had been with you guys ever since. Your eyes fall on Joaquin briefly, still laughing at something he’d heard, as you stand from the booth.

It’s difficult to make your way through the crowd without Joaquin guiding you, making you feel safe with his hands on you, but you manage. When you see the door to the bathrooms you almost let out a sigh of relief. They’re empty when you finally make your way inside – another relief. Girls at clubs can be nice, but they can also be the entire opposite and it’s nice to have a moment completely to yourself to have a second to breathe.

Once you’re done, you take another long breath before leaving the bathroom, preparing yourself for the walk back through the crowd of people dancing so you can get back to your friends. You walk past the bar first, finding it to be a little less crowded than the dance floor.

It’s louder over this side of the room, the music thudding and thumping since you’re closer to the speakers. It’s probably the reason you don’t hear the voice of someone beside you at the bar trying to talk to you as you attempt to make your way past. You only realise when a hand grabs your wrist, tugging you backwards. You stumble a little, bracing yourself on the edge of the bar, eyes falling on a light haired man sitting on a stool at the bar. The way he’s looking at you already makes you feel uneasy. 

“Do you often ignore people who are trying to talk to you, honey?” He says, voice raised enough for you to be able to hear him.

“I’m sorry?” You furrow your eyebrows. “If you said something before, I didn’t hear it. It’s pretty loud in here.” You point towards the roof of the bar where the speakers are. 

He laughs, a sound completely opposite to the sound of Joaquin’s earlier. This mans laugh immediately unsettles you and if he wasn’t still holding onto your wrist, you would be gone. But he has an uncomfortably tight grip on it and you doubt he’s planning to let go.

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffs, then picks up his drink and takes a long sip of it. “Listen, I don’t appreciate being ignored, okay? I put myself out there to talk to you, so I’d appreciate it if you gave me the same energy in return.”

You swallow, heart in your throat, and attempt to take a deep breath. This is not good. Why had you gone to the bathroom by yourself? Especially on such a busy night in a busy club.

“Okay,” you start. “If you let go of my wrist, I’ll sit down here and we can talk for a bit.” You figure it can’t hurt to try and bargain with him, even though you have every intention of trying to get as far away from him as quickly as possible when he lets go.

“How can I be sure you won’t run away? Nah, I don’t think I will let go.” He adjusts his grip on your wrist, pulling you a little closer to him. Your heart starts beating faster as the fear starts to set in.

You risk a glance across the bar in the direction of your friends booth and feel your stomach drop as you realise you can’t see them from here, meaning they can’t see you either. Surely Katy would notice that you hadn’t come back yet and would come looking for you… you aren’t too far away from the bathrooms, so there’s a chance she’d see you on her way… but you know that she’s too occupied with her new man to come looking for you. 

This is why you don’t like coming out. This is why you always say no when Joaquin or your other friends ask you to come out with them. And the one time you say yes, this is what happens. You should’ve told Joaquin where you were going as well but you figured it’d be okay – it was just a quick trip to the bathroom, what could go wrong?

Panic starts to rise in your stomach and you try your best to push it down and not let it get the better of you. You know you need to keep yourself calm in a situation like this, especially around a man like this, or things can go south quickly. 

“I promise I won’t run away,” you lie, trying not to let your nerves come through in your tone of voice. “But you’re actually really hurting me right now, so I’d appreciate if you let me go. Can we make a deal? I won’t run and you’ll let go.”

You can tell by the look in the mans eyes that he isn’t going to give up this easily. The longer he keeps holding your wrist, the more your breathing starts to get heavier. How can you get out of this situation when he’s not willing to make this deal with you?

A hand gently lands on your lower back and you flinch, just as you hear a soft voice in your ear. “It’s just me, you’re okay,” Joaquin whispers, calming you immediately.

It’s impossible not to let out a breath of relief as your eyes fall on him. He’d come after you. He’d noticed you were gone or Katy had told him you hadn’t come back yet. He’s here. You’re not alone with this man and you know Joaquin isn’t going to leave you.

Joaquin’s hand gently rubs up and down on your back.

“What you’re gonna do right now is let go of the ladies wrist,” he says simply.

You watch as the mans eyes flicker towards Joaquin but then fall back on you, his grip still tight around your wrist. You attempt to step a little closer to Joaquin but it’s impossible to move with him still holding onto you.

“Hey! Eyes over here, man. Not on her.”

The man sighs. “Listen, man–”

“No, you listen to me,” Joaquin steps in-between you and the man, his voice forceful and loud above the music. “What you are going to do right now is let go of her wrist or I am going to break yours right here, right now. And that won’t be all I break either.”

“Okay, sure. You definitely look strong enough to do that, pal,” he scoffs.

You inwardly wince. You know Joaquin is strong enough to do that and worse. He’s a Captain in the Air Force and he’s The Falcon. You’re pretty certain that he could inflict a lot more damage than a broken wrist.

“You wanna find out?” Joaquin asks.

The look on Joaquin’s face must be intimidating because the man finally relinquishes his hold on your wrist. You immediately wrap your other hand around your wrist, holding it to your chest and trying to ignore the pain throbbing through it from his grip.

The man throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes before standing and walking away, further into the crowd of people. Before he’s even disappeared from your view, Joaquin has turned around, his hands moving to take your arm and carefully examine your wrist.

“It’s already starting to bruise… that bastard,” he mutters, his eyes dark. You can hear every word despite the loud music around you simply because of how close he’s moved into your space. “You okay? I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I only just noticed you were gone a few minutes ago and Katy mentioned something about the bathroom so I went there straight away but I couldn’t find you.”

The fear and panic in your stomach has gone, now replaced by nausea. You can feel yourself starting to shake, the adrenaline of everything starting to wear off. “Can you take me home?”

Joaquin doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, hold you close and leading you out of the bar. He figures he’ll just text your friends once you’re both safely in a cab to tell them where you’d both gone – that and he’s a little annoyed at Katy for letting you go to the bathroom alone. He’s annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner that you’d disappeared. 

“I’d drive you home myself but I’ve been drinking, angel,” Joaquin says as the two of you wait for a cab on the sidewalk just up the street from the club. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you close. It’s comforting to you, helping you to remember that he’s still there beside you, not going anywhere. “My place is closer, but we can go to yours if you feel up for a longer cab ride.”

You shake your head. “Your place is fine.” You’ve stayed over at his apartment before, several times, both alone and with other friends. His bed is much more comfortable than your own, you’ve learned, since he never lets you sleep on the couch.

“Okay,” he says, rubbing your back gently as the cab pulls up in front of you.

He lets you in first before sitting beside you and telling the cab driver his address. One of his hands holds yours, his thumb gently sweeping back and forth over your skin in an attempt to help calm you down. He can see how uneasy you still feel after it all. Why had he not gotten to you sooner? Not realised you were missing sooner? 

The cab ride back to his apartment is silent, as is the elevator ride up to his floor. You wait beside him, arms crossed over your chest as he unlocks his front door and lets you inside first. 

“You wanna shower or something?” He asks, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah, I think that’d help,” your voice is small. The sound of it makes Joaquin’s heart hurt. 

“You remember where I keep my clothes? You can help yourself, angel.” 

You nod, reaching over to gently squeeze his hand again before heading towards his bedroom to get some of his clothes to change into before heading into the bathroom just off of his bedroom. 

While you shower, Joaquin kicks off his shoes, steps into the kitchen and starts working on making you something to eat. Something warm, something comforting. He’s become a pretty decent cook over the past few years and cooking for you is one of his favourite things to do. He’s always inviting you over for dinner, which is exactly the reason why you know where he keeps his clothes – you eat, you stay late talking, Joaquin refuses to let you go home when it’s so late at night and he has a perfectly comfortable bed.

His heart almost stops in his chest as he sees you walking out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of his sweatpants and a shirt. “I know I’ve said this before, angel, but you look damn good in my clothes,” he flashes you a grin. 

You teasingly roll your eyes at him as you walk into the kitchen, arms crossed over your chest as you try and suss out what he’s cooking you. “Bet you say that to all the friends you let stay over and borrow your clothes, Torres.”

Joaquin snorts. “Bold of you to assume I have other friends staying over.”

He doesn’t. Even out of your friendship group, you are the only person who’s stayed over in the last several months and especially the only person he’s let sleep in his bed and borrow his clothes. He’s not willing to admit to himself what that really means. Not yet.

“What are you cooking?” You ask, peeking inside the pot on the stove.

“Pozole,” he says, coming up beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. He’s apparently incapable of keeping his hands to himself when he’s worried about you. “It won’t be ready for another hour and a half at least, but I figured cooking you something comforting and warm might be nice. I was already gonna cook it for dinner this week so I had everything in the fridge ready to go.” 

“Joaquin, you didn’t have to do that,” you glance over at him. “Really, I would’ve been fine with a cup of tea or a pack of cup noodles. And it’s so late.” You mean it honestly, even though the fact that he’s been prepping everything for this while you were showering sits heavy and meaningful in your stomach. No one ever does things like this for you… except Joaquin.

He shrugs his shoulders and moves away from the stove, hands on your waist so that you move with him. He directs you over to the couch, waiting till you sit down before he puts a blanket in your lap and attempts – badly – to tuck you in. 

“What are you doing?” You can’t help but laugh. 

“You are gonna sit here for the next hour and a half, till the pozole is ready, put on a movie or something, and just try and relax. And I am gonna sit beside you, once I get changed out of these sweaty ass clothes,” he says, standing back up straight. “I’ll be two minutes, angel!” He calls out, hurrying away from you towards his bedroom.

You smile to yourself as you grab the remote to the TV and try your best to curl up under the blanket. It’s amusing, how quickly things can change. An hour ago, you were in the club with Joaquin, who was having the time of his life, and now here you are, curled up on his couch in his clothes. Your eyes drift down to your wrist, where a bruise is already starting to form, and you wince. That’s going to be painful when it fully forms.

Joaquin comes back out a few minutes later, wearing a similar pair of sweatpants and a muscle tank that causes you to focus on his biceps for much too long. You barely even notice that he’s carrying something in one of his hands. 

“Uh, what’s that?” You ask, motioning to the tube.

“It’s cream that’s meant to help bruises,” he says, lowering himself down onto the couch beside you. “I forgot I had it but I bought it for myself not long after I became Falcon. Will you let me put it on you?” 

You nod, letting him take your arm in his gentle grip. He squeezes some of the cream onto your wrist and gently massages it in. It hurts already, even with just the slightest bit of pressure, but you try your best to ignore it and focus on the look of concentration on Joaquin’s face. He looks up at you afterwards, catching you staring. 

“See something you like, angel?”

You look away, a little flustered, and pull your wrist out of his grip. “Thank you.”

He grins and stands up, heading back towards the bathroom to put the tube away and wash the cream off of his hands. He knew it might not be the right time to be teasing with you, but he had to be – this was the Joaquin you knew, and he could tell that right now, the last thing you wanted was for him to treat you like you were something breakable, like what had happened at the bar was something you couldn’t move past. 

“All right, what are we watching?” He says as he walks back to the couch, climbing over the back of it and settling down next to you, resting his arms up on the back of the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “You pick somethin’ good?”

You surprise him by passing him the remote. “You choose. I can’t find anything.”

He almost freezes solid when he feels your head lean down on his shoulder. He lets his arm fall around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest so you can rest comfortably. 

“What if I pick something you don’t like?” He asks, trying his hardest not to stare at the top of your head and hope to hell you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating, even though you’re laying on the opposite side of his chest.

“Nah, you won’t,” you say. “I like everything you like.”

Joaquin clears his throat and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, what if I put on The Conjuring or something?” 

“You wouldn’t,” you mutter, knowing him well enough to know he’s joking.

“What if I’m being serious, angel? What if all I want is to put on a scary movie so you get all frightened and have no choice but to cuddle up to me in search of safety?” He grins. 

“Joaquin, I’m already cuddled up to you.”

He pauses. “Okay, well that’s true.”

“Just pick a movie, Joaquin.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You’re thirty minutes into the movie by the time you speak again. Joaquin is invested in the story but the second you speak, his entire attention is on you. 

“Thank you for saving me tonight, Joaquin,” your voice is quiet.

Joaquin gently rubs your shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. You don’t have to thank me for anything, angel. You know that, right? I should’ve noticed and come after you as soon as you left. Katy should’ve never let you go to the bathroom alone either.”

He can’t help the bitterness in his tone. 

“I didn’t meant to ruin your night, Joaquin,” you mutter, seemingly ignoring everything that he’d just said to you. 

Joaquin is quick to sit up straight, making you move from your spot on his chest. You look at him, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden movement. He gently cups your face in his hands. 

“Ruin my night? Angel, you did not ruin my night. Did you not hear anything I just said? In fact, you probably made my night even better than it already was. I mean, c’mon, pozole and being curled up on the couch watching a movie with you is a hell of a lot better than being out in that club without you,” Joaquin admits, his honesty getting the better of him. 

You frown a little, eyes clouding with tears. Joaquin is quick to wipe one from your cheek after it falls. His heart hurts at the sight of the tears in your eyes. 

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his chest again, wrapping his arms around you and letting you cry into his chest. Your arms wrap around him, gripping the material of his shirt. One of his hands rubs up and down on your back in an attempt to relax you. “I always ask you to come out with us cause I enjoy it more when you’re there. I thought you knew that. And I know the clubs aren’t your scene, but I figured you didn’t hate them that much if you said yes to me every now and then. I promise I won’t ask you again, angel. Especially after what that prick did tonight. I almost knocked his jaw in then and there.”

He smiles as he hears something that sounds like a sob like laugh come from you. 

“If I ever see him again, I can’t promise I won’t break his wrist, believe me.”

“No, you won’t,” you mutter, pulling away from his hug. 

His hands immediately move to your face again, clearing the tears off of your cheeks. 

“Maybe I will,” he shrugs.

“You’re too much of a sweetheart for that, Joaquin Torres. I mean… look at everything you’ve done for me tonight. You telling me you’re not a soft hearted person?” You ask.

Joaquin smiles to himself. “Angel, I’m just soft hearted for you,” he confesses. “Now, I’m gonna quickly go check on this pozole okay?” He stands up from the couch, stretching his legs and padding over towards the kitchen – mostly just to make it so you don’t feel obligated to say anything in return. 

He’s standing in front of the stove, stirring the pozole with a wooden spoon, when he feels your arms snake around him from behind, surprising him with a back hug. “Uhhh, what’s happening right now?” He asks, pausing his stirring.

“Thank you,” is all you offer in answer.

“Angel, what’s going on?”

You remove your arms from around him so he can turn around and face you again. He’s about to ask you what you’re thinking when you lean up and press your lips to his cheek before bounding back over to the couch without another word. Joaquin stands, staring after you in shock. He feels like his cheek has been burned – in a good way, if that’s even possible.

“Hurry up and finish stirring that pozole, pretty boy!” You call out from your spot on the couch. “I wanna finish watching this movie and my pillow has gone missing.” 

Joaquin lets out a small laugh, gives the pozole another small stir and starts walking back over to you. “I suppose I’m the pillow?” He asks, shaking his head. “I’m comin’, angel. I’m comin’.” 

[melanchoire]

hi! can i request a top student karina who helps y/n to get a good grades and became obsessed with her (friendly rivalry plot 🤩). y/n realized she couldn't survive school without her and starts doing what karina wants (to please her 💗), that eventually lead to her bedroom.. can you also add up that the y/n loves boobs like yk she would beg karina to let her suck her and please also add that karina is into face sitting mwehehe.

this seems a lot sorry... THANK YOU ANYWAY!!

i missed writing for rina so much 💔 anyway i still have a couple of aespa stuff in my drafts (aeri stans get ready 🎇🎉🎊)

cw: cunnilingus, face–sitting, thigh riding, titsucking.

karina being a senior at your school who becomes your tutor due to your less than ideal grades 💔 having to meet her every school day at the library starts to make you realize that slacking off in class and taking lazy and messy notes for the sake of joking around and talking with your friends was a very bad idea

you knew something about her, not too much, but you had seen her a couple of times in the school hallways or among the crowds of people at school events. you thought she would be a bit stuck up like some of the other girls in her class given the looks they tend to give younger students, but she wasn’t completely giving off that vibe, and you could tell when she looked up from her phone upon entering the library and dropped the straw of her milkshake from between her lips. “oh hey! you made it. i thought you weren’t coming.” and she approaches you smiling, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and maintaining a charismatic and friendly attitude

“it’s good to see you here. your teacher told me about your low grades and asked me to help you study and prepare for the upcoming exams so you can pass her subject. i hope you’re okay with that." but you can’t pay much attention to her words because your eyes are on her because she is so much more beautiful up close 😵‍💫 this was definitely the motivation you needed to finally pay attention to your studies

her sharp and pronounced features, the way her silky hair waves gracefully when she walks and a small breeze hits her face, how her uniform accentuates her body, the slight movement of her hips and her confidence when she walks makes you stare at her like an idiot every time you see her. karina even greets you when she sees you in the hallways, no matter if you are with your friends or she is with her group, when she passes by you, she gives you a small nod and a smile, but if she sees you from afar, it’s a wink and a wave of her hand 🫠 you don’t know how she would react if she knew that sometimes you wander around the school on purpose just to find her or memorizing the route she takes to her classroom or during break time

but karina is just as obsessed as you are! of course she notices the look that your eyes have when you see her, but she always maintains a relaxed attitude, holding back a smirk as she sees how you think you’re being subtle with your gaze when it’s traveling all over her body…

and thanks to karina’s help you manage to go from being the lazy student who is always talking in class to the student who participates in class and does all their homework so they can use the extra class time to complete some other assignment in another subject or study for the exams they got

little by little, the study dates begin to become more… intimate. karina always used to sit next to you while she explained the exercises, placing the notebook between the two of you and looking at you every time she explained a new concept to make sure you were following her lead and understood what he was talking about. now, she was more… closer. continuing to sit next to you but much closer to you, her chest practically at your side and always remembering to make sure to press her breasts against your shoulder, enjoying when you turn your face to the side to look at her as she explains, getting nervous about having her face so close to yours and noticing how your gaze falls directly to her lips

a hand resting on your knee as she explains the formulas and different ways to solve an equation, climbing dangerously up your thigh until it reaches under your skirt. “now we will do a little practice. i’ve already written the results of the equations. you just have to do the math, and if you get the same result as me, it means it’s correct.” as if she wasn’t currently caressing your clit through your panties with her fingertips 🥰 “if you do this well, we can stop studying here and do something more… fun.” and you’ve never been so motivated to do a task before!

karina pushing your panties aside so her fingers could caress your folds… you were thankful that there was no one in the library at this hour, because otherwise, you wouldn’t be having this! or that’s what you think, because if it were up to karina, she would fuck you on the table even with the library full of people 😊

and when you finally finish completing the exercises, you think that she will give you what you want so much, but no! she focuses on correcting the exercises you solved, taking all her time and taking extra time to provoke you ☹️

but a promise is a promise, so karina drags you to her bedroom!

although karina won’t give it to you easily 😣 making you kneel in front of her and beg her to touch you, but not before confessing how much you want to fuck her for a long time and tell her all the twisted ideas that are in that silly little head of yours :( karina enjoys being mean because it’s very easy to break you and make you act like a dumb

making you sit on her lap and ride her thigh while she lets you play with her tits 😵‍💫 pushing your face into her chest with a grip on your hair, grinning as you watch as the more you suck on her tits the more desperate your hips move against her thigh

“so that was it... do you always put effort into your studies when it comes to me because you want to fuck me, (y/n)? all you do is think about me playing with this body when you study?”

“riding my thigh like a dog humping a leg… you're pathetic, (y/n).”

letting karina ride your face because it’s your way of thanking her for helping you improve your grades and be a better student 🫶🏻 she loves to see your vulnerable expression and your eyes looking at her from between her thighs, enjoying it more when you whine against her pussy as she pushes her hips harder against your face just to tease you 🥴 and she is so sweet that she also allows you to touch yourself while you devour her, letting you sneak a hand under your skirt and play with your throbbing clit while she uses you for her own pleasure

[akanemnon]

Yeah, Kris is definitely NOT alright.

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[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just your average male living space.

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[disparatemind]

Transcription of the above video:

What to do when ICE is at your door

It was 5:30 a.m. when ICE came to Esther's apartment. ICE stands for Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The agents lied to Esther. They're saying they were police officers investigating a crime. And her husband, Alexi, was a potential witness.

Is Alexi home? they asked innocently.

Now Esther's gut told her she should cooperate, but she remembered something she'd heard on the radio. ICE had been making early morning sweeps using tricks like this to get people to open their doors. Esther remembered she had rights.

ICE may try similar tricks at your home. They may say they're looking for a friend, relative, or roommate. But do not be fooled and do not open the door. Instead, remain calm and be polite. Tell the agents that you'd like to see a warrant and their ID. Ask them to slip these documents under the door or hold them up to the peephole. Without a warrant signed by a judge, ICE is not allowed to enter or search your home. ICE usually won't have a warrant, but they may lie and say they do or show you something else that looks official. So look carefully and take pictures of whatever they show you. If they refuse to share any of these documents, then ask them for their card and contact information.

Do not show the agents anything or say anything, except "I do not consent for you to enter my home. I do not want to talk to you without a lawyer present. Please leave."

Now, ICE won't always listen to you and may enter your home using force. But saying these things might help you in court, even if the agents don't listen.

Just reminder:

Fuck ICE

Death to Trump and his billionaire buddies

Always punch Nazis

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[honehonn3honey]

Birthday boy 🎂

[mohntilyet]

still i think the one of the more fun differences drawn between illario and lucanis that was lost would be illario's ability to endear himself to others but serious lack of empathy, vs. lucanis' (self perceived) inability to be charming but how much he cares. it's interesting that the game has gone with the "lucanis' ability vs illario's lack thereof" because i think illario being the dellamorte 'best in show dog' vs. lucanis' attack dog would have made me so unwell.

lucanis is... awkward. he's not unlikable, because he is usually very polite, but he doesn't speak much and only seems to care about the other dellamortes. he once sent viago de riva a knife with no note (who knows what he could have meant by this). he does what caterina asks of him, and by his own admission, cannot say no to her. he is a dramatic and prolific killer, and that makes how untouchable he is even worse.

and the crows like illario, sure, AND he's a good assassin! he's even a good crow! he's so good that he can make lucanis smile, and so he is the charming, sociable one. he's the one that stays in treviso and can be relied upon to care, illario's even the one people prefer over caterina and lucanis!

but illario is decoration. he's the prize poodle, and even if poodles were bred to be working dogs, nobody will ever pick him to protect the house over the german shepherd that regularly mauls intruders. anyways the analogy is getting away from me. the point i'm trying to make is that i want illario to have a different kind of jealousy/hatred that's not just over 'being bad at killing' but also an arrogant loathing for everyone around him that is getting harder to hide, because they've forgotten he can bite and is just itching to rip someone's jugular out. illario is very good at hiding his family resemblance to caterina, while lucanis suffers under his grandmother's, and his own, reputation.

[kizzer55555]

The Vampire Aesthetic

Ok so Danny knows two billionaires personally and they really couldn’t be more different. Yet they had one thing in common. A vampire aesthetic. Sam is fully into goth. Spiderwebs, bats, the color black. She enjoys fangs and fake blood and the darkness of her soul. Meanwhile, Vlad is Vlad. If his name wasn’t enough, the dark clothing, pale skin, and flying around with a cape and fangs with coffins in his mansion really sells it.

Danny doesn’t know many rich people so he thinks this might be some kind of trend. (If Paulina is rich, her family likes the chupacabra) So he just thinks that all rich people have some kind of vampire thing going on.

Cue Danny somehow ending in the Wayne household. Maybe he was brought over as a friend of one of the bats, maybe rescued from a field trip/vacation gone wrong, maybe some other situation. But he is there in civilian form with civilian Waynes and Danny just takes a good long look around the inside of the mansion.

“So where’s the vampire aesthetic?

Everyone freezes.

Danny just starts looking around, checking behind paintings and feeling the walls for secret levers. Used to secret passages with Vlad and possibly Sam. The Fentons definitely had them when they were temporarily rich.

“Come on, I know you guys are hiding it.”

Cue the entire batfamily thinking that this is another Tim and that he is fully aware that these people are the batfamily. Danny hangs around the mansion more and the bats just start dropping their disguises and not even bothering to hide stuff around Danny because they assume he already knows. (Possibly even trying to recruit him to be a new bat) Meanwhile, Danny, who does not know these people are batman and his birds, just does not pick up on any of it.

He grew up in a health violation with a giant ballon observatory lab above his head and a portal to the afterlife in his basement. He is a half dead teenager who has tea with the god of time and his godfather is the other parent to his clone child. He’s used to death lazers being scattered across his home and mysterious stains on clothing.

People are weird! He doesn’t judge!

[laurellala-comics]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[skellymom]

This is amazing and so helpful!

I'll tell ya, went through two situations where family died and it was up to me and a couple other people to clean out HOARDER situations. One was a clean hoarder, the other dirty with 13 cats in a moldy the basement! One of the rooms had all sorts of green metal oxygen canisters piled up (which is a serious no no and the company delivering O2 could have been in serious trouble).

IF YOU HAVE FAMILY THAT ARE HOARDERS THERE IS SO MUCH MORE YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF! Easiest is to hire a company, and get a trash container delivered. Plan double/triple the time of just cleaning out the house. Be prepared for extra emotional and mental exhaustion and bereavement in this situation. And you might find out things about family members while cleaning out that you didn't want or possibly need to know. The extra gift of their passing.

This is why I advocate for EVERYONE to clean out and allocate important keepsakes to loved ones, friends, neighbors, and institutions before death.

It leaves time and headspace for the family to grieve instead of taking up their energy cleaning up the menusha of a person's life.

Probably the best thing you could do if you really love and value the people you care about.

I know from experience, having to clean a loved ones hoard does a number on your memory of them after death.

Just something to consider if anyone asks you to be an executor of their estate or planning for your own passing. ❤️

Hey you know how I said I was going to make a workbook on the kind of bullshit you need to do when someone you love dies? I actually did that.

HERE IS THE VERSION WITH LOTS OF SWEARING AT THE USELESS, SHITTY SITUATION YOU’RE IN.

HERE IS THE VERSION WITH A FAIR AMOUNT OF BLACK HUMOR BUT NO CURSEWORDS.

Featuring Helpful Sections such as:

Death Certificates – What you need, why you need them, and how to get them

Prepare to spend a long and miserable time on the phone

What the Everloving Fuck is Probate

Some Simple Dos and Don’ts

Shitty Mad Libs – Templates for writing Obituaries and Memorials

How to plan a non-religious death party

So you suddenly have to become some sort of hacker or some shit

This is an eighteen page book that you can print out, download, share, and give away; it is meant to be used to collect information about funeral planning and account management after a death OR you can use it BEFORE you die and give people information so they’re not stuck playing Nancy Fucking Drew while trying to keep seventeen cousins who crawled out of the woodwork from gutting each other in front of the fucking casket as they argue about who’s inheriting grandma’s favorite dentures.

It’s not exactly cheerful and it’s full of things that are probably going to feel really fucking raw if you’re processing a fresh death.

I’m sorry! I love you! Death is shitty! I’m trying to laugh about it a little and I hope you can laugh a little too because otherwise we’re all just going to cry together.

Good luck!

(in memory of my weirdo mother and her weirdo siblings who all died too fucking young and left me holding this flaming bag of dogshit)

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[theabigailthorn]

You're not uniquely talented or hard working you just went to the right schools.

Yes, yes! This is exactly why I started Philosophy Tube! Why shouldn't someone else, anyone else, have access to the education I got??? The intellectual and cultural heritage of our species is for everyone, not just privileged people like me! :)